


The Sequel to That Pedrazar Fic

by willowoak_walker



Series: That NMTD AU Series [2]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Shan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoak_walker/pseuds/willowoak_walker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trigger Warning: Self harm through excessive guitar.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. A Phone Call

Balthazar put out his second album in his own name. Pedro became a 3rd year teacher at Messina Elementary. Beatrice got a raise from the news company she worked for. Ursula published a sociology paper on the affects of filming on the filmed. Dogberry published a short story. Verges found three cats. Hero made a better mousetrap. John started a book review website. Benedick got a dog. Everything was going well. Not perfectly, but well. Then someone decided to make a reality TV show.

***

Balthazar never answered his phone in the middle of a song. Since he was almost always in the middle of a song, people who actually knew him texted him. (them? em? Balthazar hated gender.)   
So when someone called em at 4 in the afternoon on a weekday, ey (he?) knew it was a professional matter.   
"Yes?"   
"Speaking."   
"What?"   
"WHAT?"   
"How is that even legal?"   
"Yeah."   
"Thanks. I'll look at it."   
"You, too. And thanks for the warning." Balthazar hung up, and sat back down on the piano bench.

***

"This council of war will now come to order!" Hero announced, using her mug as a gavel. "Hero Duke chairing -"   
"No you aren't," Beatrice interjected, "Ursula's in the chair. You're sitting on the arm."   
"Silence!" Hero commanded, "Lady Ursula Secretary, Captain Verges Court Warden. We will now hear Agent Balthazar's report." Balthazar blinked from eir position on Pedro's lap.   
"Uh," ey said, "I received a telephone call at 4 o'clock this afternoon from the American lawyer employed by Shan's agent. She - the lawyer - told me that some Americans have decided to make a reality TV show called the Search for Shan." Balthazar made a face, "I got a bunch of paperwork in email about then. Sounds like they're going around New Zealand with a bunch of film crews, and, well, searching for Shan. Apparently it's going to be against the show's rules to use legal files, so they'll be going on rumor." The gang looked around at each other.   
"Whelp," Benedick said. That seemed to sum it up.  
"Thank you for your report, Agent Balthazar," Hero said, "The chair is now open to suggestions."   
"We could pretend ey was dead," Dogberry suggested, "Nobody would bother em then."   
Balthazar considered this, decided it was Dogberry-logic, and said "I'd rather not." Dogberry nodded philosophically.   
"This is just incredibly rude," Pedro said, "Why do they think this is alright?"   
"They're rude?" Beatrice suggested.   
"Actually," John said, "I think we can work with that. It is _very_ rude."

***


	2. Interlude: Excessive Guitar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Self harm through excessive guitar.

Balthazar wasn't talking to eir parents right now. In fact, ey was considering not talking to them at all. Ey played. Eir fingers hurt. Ey played anyway. The recorder was on. Ey could make this into some actual song eventually.   
"Balthy!" Pedro took eir hands away from the guitar strings, seeming nearly panicked.   
"Balthy, you're hurting yourself." Balthazar twisted in Pedro's arms.   
"Talk to me, Balthy." Pedro pleaded, "I saw the episode already, I know what they did."  
"The guitar," Balthazar said, and Pedro took it away and put it in its case. Balthazar curled into his arms.   
"Why?" ey finally managed to say, "Why are they helping?" Pedro rocked em, shushing gently. "Why is it so important to them? What do they want from me?" Balthazar took slow, shuddering, breaths, and tried not to cry.   
"The thing about parents," Pedro said, "Is that you don't get to pick them. And they don't get to pick you, either." He took a deep breath of his own, "It can be fucked up."  
"I've noticed," Balthazar said dryly. "Fucked is an understatement."   
"If it's any comfort," Pedro began, than changed his mind, "Even if it isn't, actually, I love you."   
Balthazar chuckled vaguely, "It is a comfort, actually," eir laugh was bitter, "I've only written one song in the Shan style in the past six months, you know?"   
Pedro looked nonplussed, "Oh?" he said.   
"Yup. And it's a love song for you." Ey snorted, "Sometimes being really loud is the only way to be sufficiently expressive."  
"I'm not sure whether I should be flattered or horrified," Pedro admitted.   
Balthazar snorted. "The love songs in my new style are proving -- harder. Emotional vulnerability is a bit easier when I get to scream too hard for anyone to touch me." Ey sat up. "I love you, too. I'm not sure that was clear." Pedro chuckled wryly.   
"Intense emotion can make it really hard to be coherent. It's clear now." They sat together quietly for a long time. Pedro stroked his partner's back gently. Eventually, Balthazar kissed him.


	3. The one where Balthazar stands on the table

"Alright!" Hero said, "We will now call this meeting to order." Nobody paid her any attention (except Ursula). "Ff," she said, and went looking for something to bang. Her search was interrupted, however, when Balthazar stood on the table. Ey whistled shrilly. Everyone shut up to try to make their heads stop hurting.   
"Listen up!" Balthazar demanded, "I have decided what I am going to do about this stupid tv show, and my stupid parents, and I want your help!" Pedro turned first, but the rest soon followed. Listening.  
"I know you guys have been having a lot of fun sending the film crews random false leads, but seriously, that's a temporary solution." Balthazar got off the table, "My parents have gone and made this personal as well as professional, and all the pamphlets about how rude SFS is won't make them stop." Ey glanced at John, "Thanks for the pamphlets, though, they are awesome." Ey took a deep breath. "Music's about expression, right? I think it's time to express myself." Pedro nodded and hugged em.

***

People actually did watch "The Search For Shan," even in Messina. Film Crew B kept finding really awesome musicians no-one outside their hometowns had heard of yet. They started every episode with "We didn't find Shan, but we did find awesome music! Here's some video, and you can buy more [place]." Then the rest of the show was music and the musicians talking. It was fun. Nobody cared for Film Crews A or C: the only interesting episodes they'd done was that interview with Shan's parents.

***

Balthazar was busy. Ey wasn't eir normal sort of busy, ey was disturbingly busy. But every time ey wiped the makeup off, took off the wig, and went to watch Ursula edit the footage, ey seemed a little less stressed. Pedro had noticed this. He had also, of course, noticed the way Balthazar's shoulders tightened just before a recording session. But it he was busy, in his normal way, and couldn't always be there. A teacher's schedule is fairly rigid. Normally, they worked around that.

***

The Local Music Project was doing its season finale, and balthazar wasn't in it. Ey had plead exhaustion from the project ey was working on, which was true, though it wasn't finalizing eir third "Balthazar Jones" album that was exhausting em. So when ey came into John's store to be confronted will a rowdy group of teenagers in bleach-blond wigs with rainbows of highlights, ey was understandably surprised.   
"It's for the concert!" One of Pedro students told em, "You have got to come see!"  
"Why are you wearing Shan wigs for the concert?" Balthazar asked. Ey hadn't seen so much Shan apparel since the last time ey had BEEN Shan.   
"It's cause of the Search For Shan!" The girl - Asha? - told em. "We're going to say we found him!"   
John pushed his way through the crowd.   
"Ah. There you are. Tod just asked me to TUNE something." He looked appalled, and with justice. He was totally tone deaf.   
Balthazar allowed emself to be distracted for a little while by out-of-tune guitars.

***

Balthazar was angry. Pedro was horrified, and visibly trying to figure out what to do with this strange new Balthazar. He appeared to have settled on 'be supportive and listen'. John approved. He couldn't figure out what to do with an angry Balthazar either. But getting in the way was DEFINITELY a bad idea. And yes, that was why he had his hand over Benedick's mouth. Snark did not seem safe. John wondered if Balth's parents realized how badly they were about to get shamed. And if he would escape.  
"It didn't occur to you that I might want to know?" Balthazar asked acidly. "I care very deeply about the Local Music Project. I am always interested in what they are doing. All the moreso when it involves using the image I am working with."   
"That's just it, Balthy," Beatrice said, "It didn't occur to me that you might NOT know already. You've always known what the LMP is doing long before we find out."   
Pedro nodded. "I thought this was what you meant when you were talking about Shanpersonators. This is a major failure in communications," he went on, "We clearly need to be more careful. Can we do a quick recap session just to make sure everyone knows everything?" He stepped over to his partner and took eir hands. "I'm sorry, Balthy." Balthazar seemed to settle. Ey was still visibly angry, but much less scarily. John took his hand off Benedick's mouth.   
"A debriefing sounds like an excellent idea," Balthazar admitted, "I should bring everyone up to date with my project, too."

***

Benedick decided that he was done being serious. For a minute, at least. He needed to get the silly out of his system so he didn't end up telling everyone about Film Crew B in filthy limericks or something. The obvious solution was to jump John. Everyone stared when he pull John out of the chair and into his lap, but that wasn't nearly as satisfying as the noise John made. Or the flailing. It took Benedick a good two minutes to flail them into a comfortable position. By then John was laughing.

***

"You done?" Balthazar asked the wriggling pile of limbs that was probably John and Benedick. They weren't. Ey waited patiently for a few moments, but then ey had to laugh. When they did finally get into an acceptable position, the entire group was cackling madly. (Except Dogberry, who had been planning muffins.)   
"Right," John said, breathless, "Updates. The store is going to be a staging point for the big show -- we'll be closed, and people will be tuning in here and doing makeup. And stuff."  
"Everyone in the show is wearing Shan makeup, except Corie, who's allergic. She's going to be a massive rainbow wig." Beatrice put in, "Hero is helping with makeup, and I"ve been volunteered to do clean-up." She glared at her cousin.   
"Listen," John said, "I've been following the Film Crews on twitter and the like, and Film Crew B is apparently coming to Auckland soon. I'm guessing they heard about the LMP, but they might also stop by Balthazar's show on Friday if they are here in time."  
"Film Team B?" Benedick asked, leaning down over John's shoulder to look at his face. John nodded.   
"Well," Beatrice said philosophically, "Better B than one of the others. And even if they DO go to Balthazar's show, you aren't planning on doing anything Shanny, are you?" Balthazar shook eir head. "I don't think we need to worry about that."   
"You used to," Verges commented.   
"I used to be a lot more paranoid than I needed to be," Balthazar admitted, "I'm working on it."  
There was a brief scuffle from the John/Beatrice/Benedick corner of the room. Balthazar raised eir eyebrows at them.   
"Is there a reason you are squashing Benedick?" Pedro asked.   
"Yes." Beatrice said, but declined to elaborate. "Do tell us more about Film Crew B, John," she suggested instead.   
"That's about all I know," John admitted, "They are coming to Auckland at some point soon, and then specifically visiting Messina. No dates."   
"In finess," Verges said, "We should be fine."  
"Yeah," Balthazar said, "and Film Team B's been asking people if they could film them, so I can always say 'no'." Everyone nodded.   
"So," Ursula said, "LMP is doing the big concert dressed as Shan, Balthazar's not in it. Film Team B is coming, but we don't need to worry about that. I'm almost done filming the song, and we should be done with the special effects by about the time the LMP goes up as long as I don't have to do lights."   
"I'll do lights," Dogberry offered. "I'm good at lights."  
"That would be great," Ursula said, "I'd rather focus on filming it."   
"Hey," Benedick said from under his partners, "We should get Team B to film it, too."   
Beatrice snorted, and took the hair tie out of her mouth long enough to say, "They can say they found Shan," before going back to braiding John's hair.   
"Wait," Pedro said, "are you braiding John's hair? Also, how would having the LMP show go up on Search for Shan work with Balthazar's video?"   
"Yeth," said Beatrice.   
"Well," said Balthazar.  
"Wait, Beatrice is braiding my hair?" John said, "I thought that was Benedick."   
"She's sitting on my hands," Benedick said.   
"So," Dogberry said. There was more, but it was baffling.   
"Everything is fine, right?" Verges translated when people didn't respond.   
"Yeah," Balthazar said, "I mean, I should find a new therapist, but other than that..." ey shrugged.   
"I'll ask mine for a recommendation," Hero said, "This meeting is adjourned." Bang went the mug on the table. John winced.


	4. Team B

Cynthia pushed open the bookstore's door, but hesitated, anxious, in the doorway when a drum announced her presence instead of the usual bell. Latasha pushed past her and approached the man behind the counter.   
"Excuse me," ze said. 

"How can I help you?" the man asked. 

"We're Film Team B of the search for Shan," Latasha said, "And we were told this was the place to come for good music."   
Cynthia put the camera bag down behind hir, and looked around at the store in general. She noticed the piano.

***  
John hadn't expected Team B to show up so soon. He had, however, PREPARED for them to do so.   
"Right," he said, "Music. Well, people do play the piano a lot, and there are jam sessions at about four most weekdays. But if you want an actual performance, have a look at these." He handed the black woman(?) the stack of leaflets he'd prepared.   
"The Local Music Project has a really big show on Saturday afternoon. It's open to the public, and there are a lot of really good local musicians in it."

***  
Latasha thanked him, took the pamphlets, and lead Cynthia over to the comfy chairs in the cafe portion of the store. Ze started looking through them as she went to get muffins. The muffins were supposed to be very good.   
"Wait," Latasha said, "Cynthia, look at this!"

"Mmm?" Cynthia said through her muffin.

"This person uses the 'ey' pronoun! IN EIR OFFICIAL ADVERTISEMENTS." 

"You're kidding," Cynthis said, "We've gotta go." 

"Yeah," Latasha agreed, "I wanna move to Auckland now." The drum at the door went off, and Latasha and Cynthia turned to look. "That's em!" Latasha whispered, and they watched as the musician greeted the proprietor, and settled emself in front of the piano. Ey was a slender person, white-passing with straight brown hair cut short, and eir clothes were conservatively fashionable. Dapper, and well suited to eir slight frame. Then ey began to play. Latasha was awed. Cynthia gaped. Was that a love song? None she'd heard before, but it suited her well.

***  
Cynthia pulled herself out of her music and Latasha induced daze when the song ended, and dragged her teammate over to the piano.   
"Um, hi," she said to the musician, "The person at the desk gave me a flyer for your show on Saturday, and I wanted to ask if it was already sold out." 

The musician laughed slightly. "No, probably not," ey said, "Most people hereabouts know me, and I've lost novelty value." 

"Oh," Cynthia said, "But you're really good! Have you recorded anything for people out of town?"

***  
Balthazar blinked up a Film Team B from eir position on the piano bench. Ey had really expected Latasha to be the one talking. Cynthia tended to hide behind the camera. "Yes," ey said, "I'm working on my third album now, in fact. Balthazar Jones, ey/em, pleased to meet you." Ey offered eir hand. Cynthia shook it, then Latasha did.

"I'm Latasha, ze/zer," ze said. "Delighted to meet you, Mx Jones. This is Cynthia, she/her, and yes, we are Film Crew B." Balthazar nodded up at them. Ey knew that.

"Speaking of which," Cynthia put in, "Do you want to be on TV? We could film your show on Saturday and put it on Search next week." 

"No, thank you," Balthazar said firmly, "There are people who need the publicity a lot more than I do. You should film the Local Music Project's show on Friday night. I know Lauren has been trying to get more publicity. Besides, it's even Shan themed." 

"We don't" Latasha said, "WANT to find Shan. He clearly doesn't want to be found. But it would make a great finale. We got given a flyer for it, too," ze went on, "The Local Music Project sounds really nifty." 

"Nifty?" Cynthia muttered. 

"Nifty," Latasha said, "And we should totally bring attention to it. But maybe we should only publicize the more experienced bands, and not the five year olds?" 

Balthazar smirked. "The kids are really cute. Look, you should talk to Lauren. I'll give you her number. But I've got to give piano lessons now, so I can't talk any longer. It's been nice to meet you."

***

Film Team B attended Balthazar's show, but didn't film it. Hero noted this approvingly, and signaled to Ursula. When Belthazar was done packing up eir equipment, ey found Hero and Ursula detaining Latasha and Cynthia. Ey raised eir eyebrows at them.   
"Oh, no," Pedro said, "Eyebrows." 

"Council now, eyebrows later," John said, pushing his brother toward the door with the hand not full of mikes.

"Cm'on, Team B, we've got communications to do!" Benedick said, and beckoned to Latasha.

***  
"Okay," Latasha said, sitting down in the armchair ze'd been lead to, "Why are we here?" 

"I was Shan," Balthazar said. Pedro hugged em. John went and got the demonstrative electric guitar he'd stashed under the counter. 

"You WERE Shan." Cynthia said. Latasha was gaping. 

"I WAS Shan," Balthazar nodded, "I don't perform as him anymore; it's bad for my health."

"We found Shan," Latasha said, and stared at Cynthia pleadingly, "We were trying not to do that. Now what?" 

"Well," Hero began.

***

"We can do that," Latasha said, "I don't think it should be a problem?"   
Cynthia shook her head.   
"I do have one question, though," Latasha went on, "What was Case Three?" 

"The album?" Benedick asked. Latasha nodded, and stared intently at Balthazar.   
"That," Balthazar said, "Was me trying not to cease existing. I didn't know what on earth I wanted out of music once I didn't have to please my parents anymore. Case Three was the failures: I play the successes under my own name. It's better."


	5. The Video

“This," Latasha said on the television screen, "Is the Local Music Project of Auckland. They are fabulous."   
The screen faded to black, and lights came up on a group of exuberant children who couldn't be older than five. I had to laugh; they were wearing giant Shan wigs, bleached blond and rainbow mohawks, and the wigs kept falling off as the kids danced around singing Shan's "Enmity". It was cute.   
I settled in to watch the episode; Film Team B had found something interesting, as they always did.  
I ate my popcorn as the performance went on.   
The kids were cute, and the older musicians were actually pretty good.   
Everyone was dressed as Shan. It wasn't all ballad-screamo, though. Everyone above about ten was playing something original.   
I made a note to look these people up.   
Then Team B came on screen as the last applause faded. "Okay," Latasha said, "We've got a little bookkeeping to do. I hope you'll bear with us. We're leaving Search for Shan."   
"Be accurate," Cynthia said, "We got fired."  
"What?" I asked the screen.   
"Be fair," Latasha said, and I shut up to listen, "We haven't actually been trying to find Shan, so we don't really belong on a show about searching for him."   
"M-hm," Cynthia said, "But we did find him." I gaped at the screen. Where the hell were they going with this?   
"No," Latasha said, "He sent us a video over email. That is not the same thing." I gaped some more. Shan hadn't done videos in nearly three years now. And then he sent one to Team B? "Shan's lawyer confirmed this thing was legitimate, and told us to put it on air," Latasha said, "So here."   
The image changed to a room, white walled, with a single chair and table in it. There was an electric guitar leaning against the chair, and an amp tucked under the table.   
Then someone walked onscreen. It was Shan. Or perhaps, I thought, it was someone dressed as Shan. Blue lipstick, white pancake makeup, outrageous eyeshadow covering half the face, blond and rainbow mohawk - all of it.  
"Hello," he said, "I'm Shan." He picked up the guitar. "I'm going to play you a song," and he smirked up at the camera, "This is for my parents."   
Okay, I thought. Why not? They'd been on the show, after all. Then he started playing.   
A screech which could not have possibly come from the guitar lead into a wailing atonal mess as he began to gyrate in the Elvis style dance which had made Shan famous. Most of the music was coming from off-screen, but Shan's guitar was playing the so-called melody.  
It was very loud. Then he started to sing, and the music got quieter so I could hear the words, which wasn't exactly typical Shan. Or hadn't been. It was the typical bleeding-heart lyrics, though.  
“It's hard to learn to love when you never had the chance,” and the blue lips open into a shit-eating grin, and the next words are a direct challenge to the audience/enemy, “When the only thing they taught you was how to sing and dance.” Wait, I thought, but of course the video didn't and swapped visuals to one Shan's big early concerts, one of the ones where he wasn't even sixteen years old, Isn't singing and dancing what you do? The instrumental was complex, guitar and piano solos riffing off the main melody. But then the music got quieter again, and the visual swapped back to the white room.   
“It's hard to mean a smile when it's always been a lie,” and that was almost calm without the usual posturing, “but for you,” I was expecting the next bit, the sudden up-tempo accompaniment to the sustained scream, “MY-Y LOVE, I'll try.” Welp. Yup. Totally Shan.  
It took me most of the next verse to realize what looked so weird about the Shan in the white room. It was a change from a pose in concert footage to the same pose in the white room that clarified it. He wasn't thin. He didn't look ill. The heavy makeup kept throwing my instincts off, but the modern Shan didn't look as if he were trying to hide how little he'd slept. The dancing wasn't jerky because he was in pain, or unsure. It was jerky as a stylistic choice, and even that was fading. The dancing he was doing as he hit the bridge was NOT stereotypical Shan.   
“Better a dinner of herbs where love is  
Now that I know where love is,   
I can choose to stay where love is,” down-tempo, almost sweetly,   
“I'd rather starve with you and yours,  
Than feast with them,”   
Then, suddenly eardrum-shattering, “LIKE THIS,” and he held the note, and the pose, as I collected my scattered wits to stare at the screen. Shan had his hands up, his eyes up, and his guitar propped on his hips in a blatantly phallic manner. When the moment finally broke it was not into a scene-change, it was merely Shan bending down to play the guitar again. And this was honest-to-heaven pop-fashion romance, here,   
“Because I know you love me for the me I try to be.” Where had all the angst gone, I wondered vaguely as he moved into the last verse. It came back, for a moment,   
“It's the idiots who raised me, they're the ones who cannot see,” But then Shan looked up from the guitar again and met the camera's eye, “I'm my own human being,” and he stopped playing and spoke the last line, “And I choose my family.”   
That was not Shan. The musician closed his eyes comfortably, smiled a genuine smile, and bobbed a nod to the camera. Then he turned around, put the guitar back on the chair, and raised his hands to take off the wig.   
The screen went black.


End file.
